The Funeral
by KandZ726
Summary: Johnlock. One-shot. John's mother has passed away. In John's grief and Sherlock's attempt to comfort him, the two friends find themselves locked into a passionate moment of intimacy, a moment neither of them will forget. Rated M for sexual content.


_**Dear Readers,**_

 _ **Here is a short Johnlock one-shot that popped into my head the other day. Rated M for sexual content.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

Sherlock sighed as his watched his best friend stand over the casket of his deceased mother. He wasn't sure what to say or do to make it better. He had never been in a situation like John's. Sure, he had lost family members to death, but had never felt connected enough to respond in the socially acceptable way. And now seeing John in such distress, it broke his heart.

He stepped his way through the small crowd of grieving family members and stood beside John. He glanced down at the lifeless body in front of him and tried to take deep breaths. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to make this any better for his best friend? He reached out and placed a comforting hand on John's shoulder. John turned and looked at Sherlock, tears in his eyes. Sherlock tried his best to give John a friendly smile, hoping to bring some sort of light into the darkness of the day that they had lived through. But John did not smile back. Instead, his face tightened in despair as more tears began to flow from his swollen red eyes. He leaned into Sherlock's chest and sobbed uncontrollably. Sherlock froze from John's unexpected movement. His heart began to beat hard in his chest and he attempted to decipher what to do next. He gently closed his arms around John's shivering body and held him tight.

He had imagined many times holding John close to him, had imagined gently stroking his back, and running his fingers through his hair. He had imagined leaning in close to him, and breathing him in, before gently placing a kiss on his full, soft lips… A sudden wave of pleasure flowed through him at his thoughts and he immediately released John and stepped away from him, feeling transparent and a bit awkward. John looked back at him. He looked a mess. Sherlock sighed again, taking his hand.

"Come on. Let's go get you cleaned up." He slowly led John to the bathroom of the funeral home. When they arrived, they stepped inside and Sherlock locked the door behind him so that John could have some privacy. He went to the sink, turned on the cold water, and wet a clean towel. After wringing it out, he turned toward John, who was sitting exhaustingly on the toilet seat, eyes closed. Sherlock moved over to him and got down on his knees so that they were face to face. He began gently dabbing the damp cloth on John's cheeks and forehead, trying to cool his fever that had come from crying. After a few minutes, John opened his eyes and stared at Sherlock. Sherlock lowered his hand.

"Feel any better?" he asked with a slight smile. But John did not answer. His eyebrows furrowed slightly. It seemed something was bothering him.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked. Again, no response. But then suddenly, John threw his arms around Sherlock's neck and hugged him tightly. Sherlock dropped the wet towel on the ground and returned the embrace. He could feel John crying once more. Sherlock, (feeling a little braver this time about touching his best friend so intimately), rubbed his back softly. John buried his face into Sherlock's neck and hugged him tighter. Without warning, he began kissing Sherlock's neck, nibbling softly and moving down toward his jawline. In shock, Sherlock pulled back slightly, his stomach dropping slightly.

"J-John? What are you doing?" John placed his hand on Sherlock's cheek, cupping it lovingly. He shook his head.

"I don't know," he responded. And then suddenly he leaned back in and placed his lips on Sherlock's. Sherlock gasped slightly, but then found himself relaxing into John's embrace. He kissed him back passionately then, allowing the sudden pleasure to build inside of him.

For the first time in Sherlock's life, his mind was quiet. He thought of nothing but John then, allowing his feelings for him to show as plain as day. He had imagined this moment many times in their short years together, but too afraid to do anything about, ashamed and afraid of John's rejection, he kept his feelings to himself. But finally, there they were together, Sherlock's fantasies at last coming true.

He stood up then and grasped John's shirt between his fingers, pulling him up off the toilet seat and dragging him toward the nearest wall. He gently pushed John up against the wall and began kissing him once more. John's mouth parted slightly and Sherlock let his tongue slip inside. Their tongues danced together while Sherlock moved his hands down John's sides. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off of his shoulders. He leaned in and kissed John's neck and shoulders slowly moving his way down his bare chest. He got down on his knees once more and hungrily began removing John's pants. Sherlock's breath caught in his throat as he faced John's hardness, still contained in his shorts. He grasped John's hips with his hands and massaged him gently near his crotch with his thumbs. John let out a quiet moan and began running his fingers through Sherlock's curly hair. Sherlock kissed John just below the band of his shorts and slowly slipped them off. John's hardness sprung free and Sherlock grasped it gently in his fist. John shivered with pleasure and moaned again. Sherlock began pumping with his right hand, his left hand continued to explore John's naked body. The more Sherlock stroked John, the tighter John's fingers gripped Sherlock's hair.

"Oh God!" he groaned, as Sherlock changed from stroking to sucking. His mouth formed around John and he continued to pleasure the man in front of him. A few minutes later, and John inhaled sharply.

"Oh Sherlock, I'm going to come!" Sherlock sucked even harder and faster until soon enough the bitter fluid filled his mouth. He got up off his knees and spit into the sink. He rinsed his mouth out quickly and then turned back to John. John had slid down to the floor, looking rather exhausted. Sherlock laughed softly and sat down next to John. John leaned his head on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock took John's hand and laced their fingers together.

John gestured toward Sherlock's crotch, where his pants had become rather tight, and cleared his throat.

"Are you… Um, do you need…" Sherlock laughed.

"No, I'll be fine. I did this for you. You needed it and I…" Sherlock stopped, feeling suddenly awkward again at the thought of expressing his true feelings. John lifted his head and looked at Sherlock.

"Yes?" John prompted. Sherlock looked down at their fingers and massaged John's hand with his thumb.

"For so long I've wanted to tell you how I feel. But I…I wasn't quite sure what to say. I mean, what could I say?! Every possible scenario that popped into my head sounded so ridiculous and I was so… I was so afraid that…" Sherlock's voice trailed off.

"You were afraid I would reject you," John finished for him. Sherlock nodded slightly. "Sherlock," John continued, turning toward him a bit to look deeply into his eyes. "I would never reject you. And I don't give a damn what anyone thinks of us. They all think we're a couple now anyway." They both laughed at the thought. "We'll figure this out. And we'll get through this. For right now," John lifted Sherlock's hand and kissed it gently, "don't leave me. I need you more than ever, especially today." Sherlock gently cupped John's face with his other hand and kissed him softly on the lips.

"I will never leave you," he replied. "I promise."


End file.
